by Judy Duarte
From the amount of dough still in the mixing bowl, Drew figured they were going to have a boatload of cookies, yet Lainie measured out only a small amount of powdered sugar.
He studied her as she worked. She still had a dusting of flour on her nose, although she wasn’t aware of it. And her sweet smile made him smile, too.
“Aren’t you going to frost all of them?” he asked.
“Not the ones we’re going to serve at the party. I’ll do that the night before.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to frost a couple of them now. Don’t you want to see how the finished product is going to look and taste?”
Actually, Drew loved sweets. “Sure. Why not?” He watched as she whipped up the frosting in a bowl with a handheld mixer, then she added a couple drops of green food coloring and blended it together with a spoon.
“Mama Kate used to make the best cookies,” Lainie said.
“Your first foster mom, right?”
Lainie nodded. “She always let me help her since I didn’t play outside with the other kids.”
Drew could understand why a girl might prefer time in the kitchen, cooking and baking. But by the way Lainie had said it, he got the idea that she rarely went outdoors. “Did you prefer being indoors?”
The spoon she’d been using to mix the frosting stilled, then she started stirring again. “Back then, I wasn’t really able to.”
A bad memory? Or maybe it was just a simple, heartfelt reflection of the days she’d lived with Mama Kate and it made her sad.
He told himself it really didn’t matter which, but for some reason, it did. “Why not?”
At first, she didn’t answer and continued to mix the frosting. A couple of beats later, she said, “I was a little sickly back then.”
She’d mentioned something about having health issues, but he hadn’t considered them serious. “You mean, from an illness?”
She clicked her tongue and continued stirring. “It was no big deal. It’s all in the past.”
He was about to quiz her further, but she switched the subject on him as swiftly as a champion stock car driver shifted gears and changed lanes.
“Donna gave me a list with the children’s names, ages and sizes,” she said. “The men chipped in to buy gifts for them, and I volunteered to do the shopping. Do you want to go with me?”
“Not on a bet.”
She laughed at his quick and telling response. But he didn’t mind. He liked the sound of her laughter, the lilt of her voice.
“I hate to shop,” he said.
“But you dress so well.”
“That’s different. I go to my favorite men’s store sometimes, but not all that often. There’s a clerk who works there and knows what I like. So I usually just give her a call and bam. Done. But in general, I’m not into shopping.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “When my mom was sick, that job fell on me. So I’ve always considered it a chore.”
“But one that needs to be done.” Lainie dripped more food coloring into the bowl. “You were responsible—and a good son. I’ll bet your mom was proud of you.”
“She was, but she hated having to rely on me to do everything.” Drew could still remember her stretched out on the living room sofa, weak and pale and only a wisp of the woman she’d once been. Tears streaming down her cheek as she apologized for not being strong enough to take care of him and his sister anymore.
“I’m sure she enjoyed being your mom and felt badly when she had to give it up. That’s how I’d feel, if I were a mother.”
Drew glanced at Lainie, who had a maternal air about her this evening, especially when she wore an apron and baked cookies.
“Do you plan to have kids?” he asked.
“Yes, someday. But for now, I have the children at Kidville.”
He was glad she’d taken those kids under her wing. She was clearly eager to make them happy. He suspected she’d do the same with her own someday.
She turned to him with a spoonful of green frosting in her hand. “Here, try a bite.”
He opened his mouth and relished the creamy, sweet taste bursting on his tongue.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s good.” He withdrew a clean spoon from the drawer, dipped it into the small mixing bowl and offered it to her. “Your turn.”
“Okay.” Her mouth opened and closed around the spoon, tasting it herself. Then she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
His knees went weak, and an almost overwhelming urge rose up inside, pressing him to take her in his arms and kiss her. But he couldn’t do that. He shouldn’t, anyway, so he tamped down the compulsion the best he could.
Still, he continued to study her.
“Hmm, this is really good.” Her voice came out soft. Sweet. Smooth.
He couldn’t help himself; he reached out and brushed the flour from the tip of her nose. Their gazes locked. Her pretty brown eyes darkened, and her lips parted.
His heart pumped hard and steady, and his hand stilled. The temptation to kiss her senseless rose up again, stronger than ever. But he wouldn’t do that.
He shouldn’t, anyway.
Yet as he struggled to do the right thing, the smart thing, desire trumped common sense.
Chapter Eight
Drew cupped Lainie’s jaw, and his thumb caressed her cheek. Now was the time to release her and apologize for making such an intimate move, such a presumptive one, but the moment dissipated in a heartbeat.
Her lips parted a little wider. Whether it was in anticipation or surprise, he wasn’t quite sure. But at this point, he didn’t care which it was—as long as she didn’t stop him. He set the spoon on the counter.
At least, he tried to. It clattered to the floor, but neither of them looked anywhere but at each other.
He took her in his arms, bent his head and lowered his mouth to hers.
The kiss was hot, yet sweet. And the taste? Sugar and vanilla and everything a man ever craved.
His tongue swept into her mouth. Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she clung to him as if she might collapse if she didn’t.
The kiss intensified, and so did his hunger. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her taste, enough of her. He might have suggested that she go with him to the privacy of the cabin if he hadn’t heard approaching footsteps and someone clearing their throat.
Lainie damn near jumped through the roof as she broke away from Drew’s embrace, landing on the tip of the spoon and sending it sliding toward the doorway and ending at Sully’s feet.
The jovial old man grinned from ear to ear. With his white hair and beard and wearing a red-and-green-plaid shirt, he looked a lot like old St. Nick himself. Just the sight of him put a new spin on the old tune of “I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”
In this case, it was Santa Sully who’d gotten the romantic eyeful.
“Hey, kids.” Sully looked around the kitchen. “What’s cooking?”
Besides Drew’s blood pressure?
“I’m...sorry,” Lainie said, lightly touching her lips. Her fingers trailed down to her collar. The top button of her blouse, barely visible under her apron, had come undone, and she fumbled to close it up tight. It was almost as if she was trying to hide behind that blouse, just as she’d hidden the pink, sexy panties under the denim overalls the day of the mouse encounter.
Drew would give just about anything to know why she seemed compelled to cover up. Was she wearing skimpy undies now?
“What are you sorry for?” Sully asked her, as he stooped to pick up the spoon. He set it on the counter, then turned to them with a big ol’ grin that sparked a Santa-like glimmer in his eyes. Even his chuckle had a ho-ho-ho quality about it.
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“Because I’m supposed to be working.” Lainie quickly turned her back to them, reached for a cookie on the cooling rack that sat on the counter and showed it to Sully. “Would you like one? I’d be happy to frost it for you.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” the oldster said. “I came down here looking for a bedtime snack. And a sweet one sounds pretty darn good.”
Lainie got right on it, frosting not one but two cookies and handing them both to Sully. She waited while he wolfed one of them down.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“They’re great. Best I’ve had in ages.”
“Too bad I didn’t have a Christmas tree cookie cutter.”
Sully chomped into the second cookie. “You could call these ornaments.”
“You’re right.”
As Lainie and Sully launched into a conversation about baking, the tree decorating and the gifts she planned to purchase and wrap for the kids, Drew retreated to the sink and started washing the bowls.
To him, it was just a bunch of nervous jabber, an attempt to put the kiss behind them and to pretend it hadn’t happened. But it had.
And if it had the same effect on her that it had on him, it wasn’t one either of them was likely to forget.
* * *
More than twelve hours had passed since the cookie baking session turned into a romantic moment and ended with an earth-shaking kiss. Yet Drew’s memory of Lainie’s sweet taste and the feel of her body in his arms hadn’t faded a bit.
He’d tried to broach the subject with her after Sully left the kitchen last night, but she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. She claimed she wasn’t feeling well, that she needed to get some sleep and that she’d finish the baking in the morning.
She had looked a little tired. It was hard to say for sure, but he suspected, in reality, she was both shaken and troubled by the kiss.
He could understand why. He’d been stunned by it, too. But since he hadn’t been ready to face any of those now what questions, especially when he didn’t have an answer, he’d counted himself lucky and had gone back to his cabin.
All during breakfast, Lainie had bustled about the kitchen, but she’d hardly glanced his way. And the only thing she’d said to him was, “Good morning.”
Even when Sully came in from the dining room for a second cup of coffee and thanked her for a tasty meal, she’d followed it up with a simple, “You’re welcome.”
Her cheeks bore a constant flush, though. So he decided the only thing bothering her was that kiss.
It might have been an ornery move on Drew’s part, but he’d set up an after-breakfast interview with Sully in the kitchen.
He doubted Lainie’d like having both men return to the scene of the passionate crime, but after Sully went on his way, Drew would broach the subject. And who knew? He might even instigate another kiss.
But things hadn’t worked out the way he’d planned. Moments after Sully took a seat at the table and Drew poured them each a cup of coffee, Lainie slipped out of the kitchen and didn’t return.
“Something’s bothering Lainie,” Sully said. “Is she upset because you kissed her last night? Or just about being caught?”
“I’m not sure.” Drew took a sip of coffee. “Some women aren’t easy to figure out. And Lainie’s one of them. But just for the record, I don’t have any regrets. It was a great kiss.”
“She certainly seemed to be enjoying it,” Sully said. “My guess is that she’s not sure what to do about it.”
Drew wasn’t, either. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t like to kiss her again. Lainie was proving to be... Well, intriguing, to say the least.
“I really like that little gal,” Sully said.
“I do, too.” Drew stared at his coffee for a second. “What do you know about her?”
Sully lifted his mug, blew at the steam rising from the top and took a sip. “Not much. She’s a sweetheart. Pretty, too. But her friends are a little iffy.”
“Seriously? That surprises me.”
“Yeah, me, too. But it’s probably because she has a big heart. Too big, I suspect.”
“What do you mean?”
Sully sat back in his chair. “It’s nothing, I guess. It’s just that, over the last couple weeks, she’s come to me with one question or another. It seems that either one of her girlfriends or someone she knows has a problem, usually due to their own making.” Sully slowly shook his head. “I gotta tell you, Lainie really needs to choose some new friends. Some of them don’t have the sense the Good Lord gave a goose.”
Was that a red flag? Had Sully spotted a flaw in Lainie that Drew had failed to notice? Or were her questionable friendships merely the sign of a warm, loving heart? Either way, Drew intended to find out.
Sully clucked his tongue. “I guess everyone has a weakness.”
“You’re right.” And Drew figured some of them also harbored a few secrets.
For a while the men didn’t say anything.
“Cookies aside,” Sully said, “how’re the party plans coming along?”
“Everything seems to be on track.”
“Say,” Sully said, “I was thinking. Why don’t we wrap up that Christmas party with a good, old-fashioned hayride and a sing-along? The church my wife and I used to attend would have one each summer to celebrate the children’s promotion to their Sunday school classes. And we all had a lot of fun.”
“Good idea. The kids would probably like that.”
“There’s an old wagon in the barn,” Sully said. “You should check it out. It’s probably an antique by now and hasn’t been used in years. So you’d need to clean it up and fill it with straw. They don’t have any draft horses on the Rocking C, but you could hitch it up to the John Deere. Might be a good idea to mention it to Nate and see if he agrees.”
“Yeah. I’ll share the idea with Lainie, too.”
That’s not all Drew would like to share with her, but for the time being, his romantic plans had hit the skids.
That might not be a bad thing. Maybe he should back off for a while—or at least, take things slow and steady.
Yet that didn’t mean he wouldn’t dream about her tonight and relive that sweet, arousing kiss all over again.
* * *
Lainie stood in the kitchen, chopping celery, pickles and hard-boiled eggs to mix into the potato salad she was preparing for lunch. But her mind wasn’t on her work. It was on that luscious, romantic moment she’d shared with Drew in this very room last night. A tingle raced up her leg to the back of her neck.
As he’d held her in his arms and kissed her senseless, she’d completely lost her head until Sully interrupted them. At that point, she’d finally returned to earth. Yet even now, she wasn’t back on solid ground, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
One kiss would surely lead to a second, but then what?
Dread picked at her. She wasn’t ready for an intimate relationship—and not just because of that horrible debacle at that hotel lounge in Houston, when Craig Baxter’s wife caught him and Lainie together and assumed the worst.
Lainie didn’t blame Kara Baxter for thinking that her husband had a lover. To be honest, that’s the direction the relationship had been heading, but Lainie had been reluctant to become intimate. And for good reason.
She fingered her chest, felt along the cotton fabric that hid the raised ridge. In college, her first real boyfriend and almost lover had balked at the sight of the long pink scar.
“Why didn’t you warn me?” he’d asked.
She’d cried, and he’d apologized, but the whole evening had turned out to be disappointing and they’d broken up. After that, she’d vowed to be more careful with her affections.
Then Craig came along, and she’d decided to give him a chance. Looking bac
k at the way things had ended between them, she thanked her lucky stars—and her ugly scar—that she hadn’t let him convince her to make love.
But tell that to the world. While the cell phone cameras focused on Craig and his pregnant wife, Lainie had rushed to her car in the parking lot, but she hadn’t been able to outrun the internet. By nine o’clock the next morning, the scene had gone viral, the comments devastating. You’d think people would consider Craig the villain, but they seemed more focused on how he hovered over his wife, how he cooed to her, caressed her...
And that left Lainie to take all the heat. Even the blogosphere and all the network gossip shows got on the bandwagon, leaving her both hurt and angry.
She took out her frustration on a stalk of celery, chopping it hard and nicking her finger in the process.
“Ouch!” She tossed the paring knife in the sink.
See? That’s what happens when you let your emotions get in the way of good sense. You screw up.
She sucked her finger, the metallic taste of blood lingering like a bad memory and an unearned reputation as a temptress and a home wrecker, when all she’d ever wanted was to love and be loved.
Now, here she was, considering another attempt at a relationship.
Was Drew different from Craig? Could she trust him to see past her scar and into her heart? Quite frankly, she wasn’t sure, but she was tempted to give him the benefit of the doubt and risk being hurt again.
She glanced down at the flannel and denim she’d pulled out of the closet after her morning shower. She’d kept her curls contained in a topknot, but on a whim, she’d applied a coat of pink lip gloss and a little mascara.
It felt good to tap into her femininity again. Maybe it was time to start dressing the part. She might not have the money to buy expensive clothes, but she’d always been style conscious. And she wasn’t going to wear loose tops and baggy pants the rest of her life.